


Like lovers do

by ardvari



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 03:04:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10653600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardvari/pseuds/ardvari
Summary: The house was silent and dark, shadows lurking in every corner. Familiar shadows, shadows he knew, was comfortable with. He didn’t bother to turn on the lights, shrugged out of his jacket and kicked off his shoes before he climbed the stairs, snuck down the hallway and carefully avoided all the spots where the parquet was creaking.





	Like lovers do

The house was silent and dark, shadows lurking in every corner. Familiar shadows, shadows he knew, was comfortable with. He didn’t bother to turn on the lights, shrugged out of his jacket and kicked off his shoes before he climbed the stairs, snuck down the hallway and carefully avoided all the spots where the parquet was creaking. 

He loved the sounds the floor made, that haunting, deep creak that made him think of ivory growing on walls and beetles scurrying across the floor. The sound of something old, something so totally unlike this townhouse it seemed out of place. And out-of-place sounds were bound to wake Sara because she never slept deeply, always floated just below the surface of consciousness. 

He smiled wistfully as he climbed into the shower; let the water run warm, warmer, hot until it was almost scalding his skin, making him clench his teeth. He needed that pain, the hot sting made him acutely aware of every inch of skin on his body and he loved that feeling of being. 

When he slowly settled down on the mattress beside Sara, he could feel the lingering warmth of the water disappear in the air-conditioned bedroom, vanish like condensation on the mirrors. In the growing light of day filtering in through the blinds he watched her for a moment, studied her carefully. She had lost weight and he knew that the doctor thought it was stress-related but it scared him because he could count her ribs against the thin material of her top, could see the shadows in the hollows under her cheekbones. 

Those shadows weren’t familiar and they seemed to mock him with their presence on her face, a face he thought only he should be allowed to touch. 

His eyes skimmed across her chest, down to her stomach, a valley between the sharp juts of her hipbones, carved out marvelously. 

He couldn’t stop his hand as it reached for her, sprawled out on her skin, warm but not hot, familiar yet new.

To his surprise she didn’t flinch, merely wrinkled her nose before she opened her eyes and looked up at him with sleep-glazed eyes. He kept his hand on her skin, loved the feel of her breathing, the faint beat of her heart against his palm.

“Hi.” she whispered, her voice low and deep, dipped in chocolate.

“Hey. I’m sorry I woke you up but I couldn’t resist touching you.” 

She smiled, stretched under his hand and turned towards him, letting his hand travel to her hip.

“I don’t mind. I like when you touch me.” she confessed, just a little shy.

With a contented sigh he lay down beside her, scooted closer until their noses almost touched and his hand had found its way underneath her shirt, letting his thumb draw circles on her back. 

Sara’s fingers ran, light as a feather, across his cheek, along his jaw line and finally found their way to his lips. 

“Grissom… sleep with me.” she said softly, her eyes lingering on his before they fell to his lips. Slowly she leaned forward, brushed her lips against his, soft against chapped, oh so familiar.

She kissed him slowly and thoroughly, let him take over; let him explore her lips and her mouth. They had all the time in the world. All the time before she had to leave for work. She wasn’t used to working swing yet, getting up shortly after Grissom went to bed. It felt weird and yet whenever she left the house, whenever she bent down to kiss him one last time, a warm shudder ran through her at the domesticity of it all.

His hand on her back he turned her over until she rested on his hand, felt it press against her spine. _So close_ … 

“Honey…” he sighed against her lips, pulled on her top, pulled it off of her and she concentrated on the feel of the cotton sliding up her skin. 

Grissom had taught her to concentrate on little things, concentrate on evidence, concentrate on the feeling of his lips brushing against her nipples, on his tongue tracing the underside of her breasts.

Before she’d met Grissom, she’d never really touched anything and really felt it. He had taught her to let go and feel the wood beneath her hands when she walked through a doorway, had taught her to run her hands across the bed sheets first hard, then light. He had taught her to feel and because that made her aware of everything now, of every texture and every surface, it also made her acutely aware of him. 

Of what he felt like, of how his palm and his fingers felt when they traveled on her body on paths only he could see. They found the spots that made her shiver and moan as if he had bought a map of her body somewhere along the way and had studied it. 

His hand dipped into the waistband of her pajamas, stroked her hip, down the outside of her thigh before he tugged on the thin material. 

“We need to take these off.” he grinned. 

She nodded slowly, feeling as if she was swimming through molasses, wasn’t able to move fast anymore. 

He pulled the pants off of her, let them drop to the floor as his mouth descended on hers again and her arms wound around his neck. 

“Sweet, sweet Sara…” he sighed against her lips, making her whimper softly. 

His fingers trailed along her skin, up her arms, dancing across her collarbone leaving goose bumps in their wake. 

Her eyes fluttered shut as she focused on his touch, felt her skin tingle awake. Every nerve ending was aware of his lightest touch; every part of her body was craving him.

Grissom moved slowly, touched and licked and kissed and traced every curve, every delicious part of her body until she was breathing heavily. Her lips slightly parted, she was vibrating with sexual energy.

Before he lightly ran his palm over her mound, his fingers barely skimming along her cleft, he kissed the shell of her ear.

“Look at me honey.” he whispered huskily.

She complied slowly, lazily and moaned as his fingers found her clit, stroked her and dipped two fingers into her heat slowly, oh so slowly. Her eyelids fluttered but stayed open, eyes locked on his, burning into his with heated intensity. 

Hot and wet and shivering, she was like liquid energy, a current that pulled him towards her, connected them, left him marveling at her and the way she so completely gave herself over to him. 

Sprawled out underneath him, her hips began to roll with each deep stroke of his fingers. He watched her face, watched her lips move, silent words he could read but not hear, making them all the sweeter. 

“Want you Grissom need you please…” she finally muttered under her breath, quick and hungry and low. 

Her hands reached for him again, tugged on his boxers and didn’t rest until she had pulled them off. 

“Slow…” he managed to croak as her hands wrapped around his shaft. Hmmm… Oh yeah, Sara had talented fingers. He briefly wondered why she had never played piano. That thought was fleeting though because she leaned up, forcing him to back up a bit and in a move that he believed had to be intensely uncomfortable, she slid her mouth over his cock.

“Nnnngggah.” was all he was capable of saying right then and there. 

She licked along the underside of his shaft, licked and suckled and hummed against his oh so receptive flesh until he couldn’t take it anymore, pulled back and she reluctantly let his dick slide out of her mouth with an audible pop. 

A wicked little smile crept onto her lips as she leaned back, licking her lips. 

“Will you fuck me Grissom? Deep and hard and slow?” she asked teasingly, quietly, with that dark chocolate voice of hers he couldn’t resist. He grunted instead of answering, leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers. 

The kiss was frantic, tongues and teeth and lips and he tried to slow her down, tried to grasp that sweet little moment and hang on to it. 

“Slow…” he whispered against her lips, settled down over top of her, felt her legs sliding up, circling his waist. She nodded, lifted her hips, rubbed herself on his cock deliberately. 

Her hand found his shaft, guided him inside her. He loved that first slow thrust, the feel of her all around him, of her body accommodating him because it felt as if it was meant to be, as if he was supposed to be right there.

Slowly he pulled out of her again, settled for a slow rhythm that had them both gasping, had her clawing at his back desperately after a while.

“More, more, more…” she panted, pulled his head down to hers for a quick, sloppy and deliciously uncoordinated kiss. 

He complied, albeit reluctantly, thrust deeper and stronger and just a tad faster than before but not fast enough for her because, damn it, she wanted more and she wanted it now. 

She swore under her breath, slurred her words, her eyes black and stormy. She looked delectable, utterly delectable and he finally gave in to her completely, built up the speed.

Her eyes slammed shut and she moaned loudly as she shuddered over the edge, her body seemingly going boneless. 

He increased the speed even more, thrust deeper and faster until his balls tightened and she felt him come deep within her, setting her on fire. 

Panting, they lay sprawled out across the bed as if they had been swept ashore by a gigantic wave. After a long moment, he detached himself from her, rolled off and pulled her with him until she was resting across his chest, her thigh between his. 

“Nah, I don’t mind it at all when you wake me up.” she mumbled breathlessly and kissed the sensitive skin right below his ear. 

“I’m glad.”


End file.
